Over the weekend, he found them.
He found the sex toys that I'd hidden from him for a year and a half.
"What is all of this?" he asked with attitude.
All I kept thinking was, Damn, I need a new place for my batteries! [This all started when I asked him to grab a pack of batteries for the DVD remote.]
"Those are my toys," I said. "What's the issue?"
"So, I'm not good enough for you?"
"That's not why they are here. Look, I have needs and sometimes when you're not available, I need to come. Would you prefer I go out and cheat or use a BOB?"
"What in the hell is a bob?"
"A Battery Operated Boyfriend."
Can you say wrong choice of words. "Oh," he bellows, "so, you'd rather have that plastic shit as your boyfriend."
Why is he yelling? After telling him that I didn't want to watch a movie with him and asking him to leave, I called up my friend L, who has a much more extensive collection of sex toys.
She said both me and my guy have issues.
"You never call it a BOB in front of him. Now he thinks he has competition from your dildos. Men don't like competition period. But at least you're using the toys to tame your cheating ways. [That is a whole other issue.]"
"So, how do I fix this?" I asked. "Let him use a toy on me?"
"How about you ease into that one. Once he cools down and thinks about it, then you two can talk about the reasons why you have the toys."
Fast forward three hours and guess who's on my door step. Him. I don't allow him inside until he says that he's sorry for acting an ass.
Then we sit down in front of the computer. I log on to Pornhub.com and showed him some videos of women and men using sex toys.
"See," I said as I eased on to his lap. "There are a lot of things you can do that I will never get from any toy."
Maybe it was my lap dance or the videos, but he was ready and willing to not only have sex but play with a toy or two.
I think he finally got it. BOB isn't his competition.